


on instinct alone

by andsocanshe



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22773115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsocanshe/pseuds/andsocanshe
Summary: “I feel like she knows me.”Donna, Harvey, and their first moment as parents.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	on instinct alone

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine me thinking about anything other than Darvey babies. Yeah, that’s not happening. Part of this has been sitting in my drafts since November so I guess it’s time to do something with it.
> 
> Huge thank you to the beta-team this had; Heather aka my #1 in just about everything, Sam who read ⅔ of it and screamed a lot which I’ll assume is a good thing, and Elle and Marie for helping with title suggestions.

She could count on one, maybe two hands the moments in her life where time seemingly stood still; her first time on stage and the moment the audience erupted after her first production, the emotional wave that washed over her as she held her diploma in her hands the day that she graduated college, the feel of _Harvey_ on her skin when she was too young and naive to know that there was no going back, the kiss in her office that proved that, the night he came to her — three steps between them, watching him get down on one knee and pull out a ring.

The day their daughter was born.

She hadn’t realized it until that moment, but Donna had expected to hear a cry, the way that newborns cried in films or on television — a screaming, boisterous little thing placed on her chest yet the baby barely made a peep. Instead, she found wide eyes that met her own and knew in an instant that she had met her match. The way her daughter stared back at her was intuitive, like she knew every piece and edge of Donna’s soul and she couldn’t help but think maybe, just maybe, she did. It was overwhelming and exhilarating and she was sure that she hadn’t even begun to understand the weight of the world until this moment. 

Harvey’s fingers brushed against hers on their daughter’s small fist, both reminding and confirming that he was there. By her side. For the rest of their lives. And when their eyes met, Donna couldn’t help that she completely melted into his tears, mirroring the awe that she found there — clinging to the ‘ _look what we made_ ’ expression that was so deeply etched into his grin.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, lips meeting hers quickly, “You’re perfect. _Better than perfect_.”

She smiled and glanced from him back to the baby held tight against her, a tiny arm flailing yet still not crying, “I feel like she knows me.”

“Of course she knows you,” Harvey kissed her temple before leaning in to kissing the top of their daughter’s head, “You’re her mom.”

_Mom._ Donna was a _mom_. She had carried herself as an actress, carried Harvey as his secretary, the firm as COO, and now… now she had carried the little being that made her a mother, both in her body and in her arms.

She told Harvey once, one night in bed a few weeks into the second trimester that she was scared that she wouldn’t connect with their baby. There were books about it, blogs and pamphlets too, that mentioned the normalcy of mothers having to get to know their newborns before they truly bonded with them but she had a way with people. She always had, and something about this — about growing a human inside of her and the thought of not instantly connecting with it scared Donna to her core. She had loved it already, so much, and for someone that spent so many years on a path dependent on circumstantial right times, it surprised her how easily and instantly she had accepted the idea of becoming a mother. Still, the _what if’s_ ate at her in a way that nothing ever had. 

Now though, in the moment that her eyes locked on her daughter’s, Donna felt something inside of her fall into place. It hadn’t been missing, but maybe it was an extension of something that she never understood before. A little piece of her, a little piece of Harvey, and more than that, their history, her history, every laugh and smile and tear growing into something so brand new and just… _perfect._

Harvey was right. Their baby was perfect in a way that defined and defied the word and Donna’s heart swelled at the thought that this tiny little thing that fit effortlessly against her chest just seemed to know her, so deeply on levels that she hadn’t even known existed.

And Donna knew her as well — index finger tracing the baby’s small features, noting every individual piece that made her so _theirs._ Chin, his. Lips, hers — everything else _hers_ if she was being honest but the way their girl scrunched her little face in the harsh new light mimicked Harvey’s on _too early_ mornings so much so that Donna was sure she was imagining it.

“Hey, baby girl,” she choked as tears rolled down her cheeks, “I’m your mom. You know that though, don’t you? Yeah, I think so. I _know_ so.”

Then, just like that — almost too quickly, time pushed ahead once more. Their daughter let out a loud wail as one of the nurses lifted her from Donna’s chest, bringing her across the room to clean her up and check her over. Harvey chuckled.

“What?”

Shrugging through the smile plastered on his face, he reached for Donna’s hand and laced their fingers together, “She might look like you… she might even be exactly like you, but that cry? Donna, that cry means that she _needs_ you, and that she _loves_ you just like I do.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at Harvey, taking in and drowning with the the love and the years surfacing in his own. “You’re an idiot.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Hearing their baby cry in that second, though — another loud whimper echoing across the room, Donna felt it. The distance. The emptiness. For the first time in roughly forty weeks, the connection between herself and her daughter wasn’t tangible — she couldn’t touch the movements in her belly or caress the little face just inches from her own and the thought made her heart _ache_.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“This might sound ridiculous,” Donna sighed, looking pointedly from Harvey to their daughter with a rare vulnerability in her tone, “I just don’t want her to be alone.”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Harvey whispered, pressing his lips to hers before making the few short strides to close any distance between their baby and her parents. He stopped at the small table surrounded by nurses doing their routine exam — measuring and weighing her, taking her vitals, and moved to her side. Donna watched his hands move tentatively, both nervous and protective as one hovered gently at the top of her head, the other meeting her outstretched hand with one finger. Her own little fingers gripped his instantly, effortlessly.

Their daughter’s fussing calmed then, Harvey’s hushed, “ _Daddy’s here but we’ll get you back to Mommy in no time, I promise_ ” soothing her with the consistent familiarity and safety of his voice. He talked to her through her remaining tests, the swaddle, and until the moment that the nurse who had taken her previously explained how to lift a newborn — a hold that came so naturally that it amazed both he and Donna, who remained unable to tear her gaze away. 

“No time” felt too long still, and the steps between them too far, but soon, Harvey returned to Donna’s side with their baby girl tucked securely in his arms. He placed her back on her mother’s chest, head to heart like two puzzle pieces meant for each other, and took the open spot next to them on the bed.

“How are you feeling, _Daddy_?” Donna asked, emphasizing the name he had used so easily as their daughter grasped his finger for the first time. “You’re a dad now.”

“There isn’t even a word,” he replied, voice thick with emotion.

Left hand on the infant’s back, right index finger absentmindedly stroking the path between her eyebrows and down her nose, Donna looked at him, “It feels pretty surreal to hold your little girl, doesn't it?” 

“Second best feeling in the world.”

“Second? What’s the first? If you say—”

“The best feeling in the world,” Harvey took a breath, brown eyes trailing to the grayish-not-yet-pigmented fluttering ones that belonged to their baby before flickering back up to hazel, “is _this_. I know that you were worried or… scared but seeing you hold her…”

Not for the first time, Donna felt the heaviness of the words left unspoken — the silence that echoed off of his lips and and through the look on Harvey’s face. She didn't need him to say what he was thinking because she knew him, she had known him from the instant that they met the same way that she knew the baby they made the instant that she saw her.

Harvey’s own left hand reached for hers on their daughter’s back — matching wedding bands in tow — as every explanation failed him, Donna’s reassurance replacing it. “ _I know_.”

ღ

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> As always, reviews are always welcome and appreciated.
> 
> Find me at @donnaandharvey on twitter.


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